Friday, February 06, 2009

Tennyson of the Transvaal.

Oh those rides across the river
where the shallow stream runs wide
And a sunset’s beams were glossing
strips of sand on either side.
They would cross the sparkling river
on the brown horse and the bay,
Watch the willows sway and shiver
and the trembling shadows play.
'Tis a memory to be hoarded
of a foolish tale and fond,
Till another stream be forded
and they reach the great beyond.

Harry ‘Breaker’ Morant

Sunday, February 01, 2009

WW1 War Poem.

In the Trenches.

I snatched two poppies
From the parapet’s ledge,
Two bright red poppies
That winked on the ledge.
Behind my ear
I stuck one through,
One blood red poppy
I gave to you.

The sandbags narrowed
And screwed out our jest,
And tore the poppy
You had on your breast ...
Down - a shell - O! Christ,
I am choked ... safe ... dust blind, I
See trench floor poppies
Strewn. Smashed you lie.